


Love Languages

by CyrenKnight



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrenKnight/pseuds/CyrenKnight
Summary: Sora takes his anxieties for a walk in the middle of the night and doesn't very get far before Roxas finds him lying in the snow.
Relationships: Roxas/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Love Languages

**Author's Note:**

> For Summer! Happy birthday, darling!

The snow was compact under Sora’s back, his gray coat with red lining fanned out under a body that always ran warm. The sky was a deep misted blue, the snow muffling any sound, any thoughts. Sora wasn’t used to snow, wasn’t used to having to sit still, but he liked it. There was no obligation, no anxieties he needed to work through, but they’d come anyway.

They’d crawled under his bedroom door on the gummi ship and pulled at his pillow until it had fallen apart, rotten cloth and molded feathers. The window had been frosted over, Sora wanting to lean out of it, but not wake anyone. The world was asleep, just like Roxas. Maybe the whole universe was asleep.

So he’d gently taken his worries by the hand even though they insisted on smashing the light bulb and rusting handles. He put his coat on, muffling the sound of his heart trying to go a mile a minute, trying to catch up to something just out of his reach. He’d made a lap around the ship, snow crunching, glitter and cold giving easily under his boots.

Sometimes he just needed to take his anxiety for a walk to calm it down, but today it wasn’t being cooperative. So Sora had laid in the snow, arms outstretched as he decided to let it tire itself out. His nose was cold, so he’d lost sensation in it—which was ironic because that meant his body panicked and tried to make sure he was constantly aware it was still attached. His breath ghosted in the air and Sora had to wonder what part of himself died with every exhale.

He heard the crunching of boots, Roxas laying down next to him, both an arms length apart. Roxas gently locked his knuckles with Sora’s, hands both palms up. Roxas didn’t need to be out here with him, but Sora was selfish, silent. He didn’t tell Roxas he needed to go back, that he’d be right in, that he was sorry for waking him. If he broke the silence, it would crack and he’d fall into icy waters. He could swim, but he wouldn’t subject Roxas to that. So they sat there, in the silence, in the cold, Sora’s anxieties making flurries as it kicked up snow.

He was grateful Roxas didn’t ask what was wrong or if he wanted to talk. He just sat there with him, taking up space in a place Sora was sure he had carved out for him without realizing it. Roxas knew Sora was the kind of person that always talked, but rarely ever about himself. But if Sora was going to talk, if he wanted to distract himself, he’d be the first to do it. So Sora being silent spoke volumes between them.

Sora’s fingerless gloves allowed him to feel Roxas’ gloved hands rubbing absentmindedly at his fingertips. His anxieties screamed, kicked at the side of the gummi ship.

“…Did you know we’re aliens?” Roxas asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up, eyes glancing over at Sora before looking back up at the sky. “We come in an interdimensional ship, we have cloaking magic that lets us blend in with locals—aliens.” Sora’s anxieties sat on his chest, hands poised over his throat.

“You’re right, we _are_!” Sora let out a laugh, squeezing at Roxas’ fingers, anxieties making him choke on the sound. Roxas didn’t comment on it. “We have to modify a gummi ship to look like a UFO now.”

“ _Absolutely._ Cover it in flashy LEDs.” Roxas agreed, Sora snickering.

They lapsed back into silence, Sora grateful Roxas shared his useless meandering thought with him. The cold stung his lungs, but inhales were painful regardless. His anxieties weighed a ton, squeezed his throat even tighter.

Roxas let go of his fingers, rolling over to pin his hands on either side of Sora. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, his anxieties letting go and slithering out from underneath Roxas. Sora gasped for air, pressing his hands to his face as his eyes welled up.

“I love you.” Roxas never waited or saved his affections for special moments. He wasn’t the kind of person to decide that moment was going to become special, that he was going to create delicate memories that were to be protected. He lowered himself on top of Sora, who hesitated for just a moment, arms poised to hold him, before he caved and locked his arms around him.

“I don’t even know what’s wrong,” he croaked, hiding against Roxas’ shoulder. “I was fine—today was _good!_ And I just…! I don’t like that I don’t know why I’m upset because then I can’t make myself feel better or calm down…!”

“I know…” Roxas mumbled softly, kissing away his tears. “I’m here.” I love you, I’m here; they meant the same thing. Roxas had carefully crafted a language for them that was simple to opposing ears, yet intricate to them. It was more than just Roxas being there, it was more than just him sitting next to Sora in the snow.

It was a willingness to bear anything that Sora couldn’t and a willingness to let him handle it on his own. It was understanding their drastic similarities and shared moments while acknowledging the changes between them once they’d existed outside of each other. They were constantly experiencing moments together, yet processing them differently. It was a precarious balance, one always quick to make up the difference for the other.

The gravity of their attraction to each other could bring down the moon. They were years spent together encapsulated in singular memories of Sora’s youth. It was Roxas seeing this panic attack coming for a week and knowing it was inevitable, so the only thing he could do was prepare for its arrival.

Roxas always observed Sora the way people do stars, memorizing constellations and the changes in their brilliance. How easily Roxas could tell you, even hidden away in other hemispheres, even with various distances, exactly where those constellations that made up the facets of Sora were. Roxas could tell when a star was going to fall from the sky.

Sora always moved, idle motions of tapping and an inability to focus. He always surrounded himself with people he cared for, distracted himself, involved himself, but didn’t make future plans. He cooked, usually various kinds of bread. He didn’t sleep alone.

“M’cold…” Sora complained, rubbing underneath his nose with the back of his hand before sniffing. He’d collected himself just a little more after crying his heart out, Roxas carefully holding it in his own chest cavity. He pulled back just enough to kiss his forehead, lingering like the sun’s delayed arrival.

Roxas dug his arms underneath the snow packed under Sora’s back, hugging him, then sat up with him. His anxiety clung to the end of Roxas’ cream coat, wringing it between its hands. He kissed Sora’s lashes, tears threatening to freeze. His anxiety crawled up Roxas’ coat, clinging to his spine between his shoulder blades.

“We should go back in the ship then.”

Sora was quiet, the implications of unspoken conversations spanning miles of winding roads with various paths like veins, narrow and all involving his heart. But Roxas understood the intricate road designs, the meaningless branches, the endless singular path.

“Come on,” Roxas decided instead, standing up and offering Sora his hands, Sora’s anxieties weightless as they instantly clung to him. Sora took his hands, rising to his feet. Roxas led the way into the boundless blanket of snow, the world tucked underneath and comfortably asleep.

“Where are we going?” Sora asked with the assumption Roxas had a destination in mind, a secret to share.

“Dunno.” Roxas gave a shrug with one shoulder, leaving a telling trail of where they’d been behind them. “I remember Isa said once that you can’t outrun your problems, but I do think it’s important to get away from them for a bit.” Sora’s anxiety started losing it’s grip on Roxas’ coat. “If you don’t have to deal with it right away, you can come back to them later, when you feel strong enough to handle them.” It slid, desperately clinging to him, holding on, trying desperately to stop him, to weigh him down, to force him to wallow the way Sora wanted to.

Sora squeezed Roxas’ hand. His jaw felt like it had wax that was cooling in the cold open air, forcing him to pry his teeth apart to talk. “So we’re just gonna wander away for a bit? Are we gonna find a place to spar?” He tried to make a joke out of it, tried to sound like himself. His words were muffled, buried under snow banks and worry.

“We can, if you want—you’re the type who needs rest, through.” Roxas threw Sora a smile over his shoulder, watching glittering crystalline breaths escaping him and vanishing out into the world.

“But then someone else would have to do everything I’m supposed to be doing.” Sora felt the wax along his jaw crack, watched his anxieties tear at Roxas’ coat in an attempt to hang on.

Roxas turned to face him, reaching for his other hand. “Sora, I was made from your heart—I was made to carry the weight of your keyblade while you recovered.”

“But that’s not fair to you…” Roxas pressed his fingers to his mouth, kissing the cold away with the warmth of his affections.

“How isn’t it fair? I’m your friend, right?” Roxas asked, tipping his head, Sora’s nose turning pink.

He nodded, staring at the collar of Roxas’ coat instead of his face.

“You go to your friends when you need help or don’t want to feel alone or want to experience something you like with other people. If I didn’t want this, be it you or the keyblade, I’m pretty sure you’d be the first to know. I fought for the right to exist by your side and you also fought really hard to make sure I could be here.” Roxas pressed Sora’s fingers to his cheek, kissing his palm.

“Yeah, but I don’t…I mean just because you chose that _now_ doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind later. And if I get used to not doing anything by myself, then…” Sora pulled his hand away from Roxas face, palm worrying against the space over his heart.

“And when have you ever had to do anything by yourself?” Roxas asked, holding Sora’s face in his hands, trying to get Sora to look at him. “You’ve always had friends by your side to help you or were looking out for you, and you’ve always made friends who want to help. That’s just the kind of person you are. Being alone sucks and you shouldn’t _have_ to do anything by yourself, Sora.”

“But you can do stuff by yourself—! And Riku and Kairi…” Sora’s eyebrows knitted together, fingers gripping at his coat, at his heart, trying to make sure he could collect everything if it exploded out of his chest the way words kept coming out of his mouth.

“Like what?” Roxas prompted, reaching for Sora’s hand once he realized Sora was going to adamantly look at anything else but him. He started leading them farther away from the ship again, intent on letting his worries fall away piece by piece and have a snow burial.

“Tons of stuff! Like…like Kairi finished high school without us…” Sora offered something simple, something reasonable.

“She had Selphie and Tidus and Wakka,” Roxas reminded.

“Well Riku protected Kairi when her heart was inside mine, he did everything on his own.” Sora insisted, Roxas raising his eyebrows at him.

“Sora, did you ever notice how Riku kept ending up in worlds you were in at the same time as you? He did that on purpose because he wanted to see you, no matter what his feelings towards you were then.” No matter how Roxas felt about Riku, it was obvious that even when he claimed to hate him at that point in their childhood that he still admired and loved Sora dearly. He’d been stubborn and mislead, but he still ended up by Sora’s side every time, drawn back to that familiar warmth. “And even if Kairi couldn’t respond, she was there too.”

“Well, when I was asleep he did everything by himself.” Sora countered, getting a bit desperate to prove his point.

“And when you were asleep for that year, he made friends with Mickey and Naminé.” Roxas reminded.

“Well what about you?” Sora reminded. “After what happened with Xion…you—”

“Had Hayner, Pence, and Olette, even if it wasn’t really them. And then I had Axel and Xion back by my side along with you when I came back. And when I wasn’t there, I was back inside of your heart, Sora,” Roxas reminded, kissing the back of his hand.

“But then…what about Aqua—and Terra, and Ventus? They were alone for a really long time…” Snow crunched under their boots, rhythmic between Sora’s heavy breathing as he worked himself up.

“Yeah, they were.” Roxas furrowed his brows, took a deep inhale that gave his lungs iceburn. “But they trusted their friends would come. Even when Aqua couldn’t bear to fight anymore, even when Terra was nothing but armor, even when Ven was asleep…even Vanitas didn’t want to be alone and kept looking for Ven. People are meant to be together, Sora. What happened to them is what happens when you’re forced to be alone—don’t let anyone convince you otherwise, even if it’s yourself.”

Sora’s anxieties feel off of Roxas’ back, exhausted, covered in frost. It panted, gasping in a boot print behind them. It had loomed over him earlier, but it was much smaller, much more manageable now. Sora paused, waiting for it to get up, rush over and scramble up onto him and hide in his coat pocket.

“What are you thinking about now?” Roxas asked softly, thumb brushing over Sora’s knuckles.

“That I should feel bad, but how that’s also stupid.” Sora admitted, pushing his scarf up against his mouth and looking at the endless, undisturbed snow out of his peripheral. “And that I’m really grateful for you—and that I’m really cold.”

Roxas gave a slight, soft laugh that was nothing more than a puff of air and barely a noise. He leaned over, pressing his cheek to Sora’s, Sora letting go of his hand to wrap his arms around his middle. Sora wanted to crawl inside of Roxas’ coat, slide up under his clothes and leech all of his warmth.

We can go back then,” Roxas offered, his voice settling at the base of Sora’s neck and dripping down his spine like deep, amber-colored honey.

“Please,” Sora requested as Roxas’ fingers dipped beneath the collar of his coat, their foreheads brushing together. He kissed him, a soft noise like something in the distance. Roxas gingerly removed Sora’s arms from around him, kissing his fingertips once more with resounding affection that worked its way through Sora’s blood.

They headed back, the ship slowly welcoming them back into its interior with shiny new door handles and new light bulbs. Roxas helped Sora out of his coat, leaving it on the rack, his anxieties tuckered out in his pocket next to his gloves. Roxas put his gloves in his own pocket, then unbuttoned his coat, Sora quick to intercept any escaping warmth.

He pressed his chest to Roxas’ humming in delight as he kicked out of his boots. Roxas chuckled, wrapping his arms around Sora as they waddled into the bedroom. He fell onto the bed with him, bouncing once, twice without lifting off of the bed, then settling.

Roxas kicked his own boots off, Sora trying his best to press as much of himself to Roxas as he could, skin for skin. “Hold on,” Roxas requested, sitting up and taking Sora with him, just to bend forward and squish him to untie his boots.

“Oof.”

“Sorry,” Roxas chuckled. He kissed Sora’s head before leaning back and kicking his boots off onto the floor. He inched up onto the bed, arms still wound around Sora. He adjusted the mess of blankets until they were both buried underneath them, then shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to the end of the bed and kicked it off onto the floor.

Roxas gently brushed his thumb over Sora’s cheekbones and the smattering of freckles there, smiling softly. Love had nested in his features, made a home in the way his heart collected itself, in the way he studied the familiar supernova flecks in Sora’s eyes that aligned with his own when they kissed, in the way he was always overcome with longing for the person right in front of him.

“Love you too,” Sora whispered softly, tipping his chin up to kiss him, lashes resting on his cheekbones like moths heeding the call of Roxas’ eyes when they’d light up if he stared at Sora for too long.

The kiss was familiar in its tenderness, in its lack of hesitation, in the way the soft, wet warmth of their mouths just past their lips pressed together. Roxas’ knuckles brushed down Sora’s side, gently tugging his leg over his own, pressing his knee between his thighs. Sora pressed his forehead to his, reaching up to hold his face in his hands.

“You are _freezing,_ ” Roxas whispered, reaching up to hold his hands between his, breathing heat onto them.

“Least it’s not my feet,” Sora reminded with a cheeky grin, Roxas always quick to yank away from cold feet, even in his sleep. Roxas rolled his eyes, kissing his forehead, then his nose, then pressing Sora’s fingertips to his mouth.

Always pressing his hands to his mouth, always loving the part of him that he used the most, the part that was quick to be scratched, bruised, and sore—and the part he’d first offered to anyone he met, the first part Roxas had reasonably reached for.

“Well you know what they say; cold hands, warm heart.” Roxas gave Sora a wide smile as he laughed, burying his face against his collar bone.

“Well what do they say about someone with warm hands?” Sora asked, words muffled by Roxas’ shoulder. He had a spark in his eyes, Roxas the flint as he leaned down to kiss him again and whispering against his mouth.

“That they didn’t wear fingerless gloves out in the freezing cold.” Roxas peppered Sora in kisses, listening to him giggle as he wrapped his arms around him. He finished with a kiss to his mouth, Sora giving him a brilliant smile.

“Thank you, Roxas.” I love you, thank you; they meant the same thing. It was more of their carefully crafted a language for them that was simple to opposing ears, yet intricate to them. But there were no prying ears. It was just them, the heat between the blankets, and the snow melting on their boots.


End file.
